“So, at the end of 1980, I was offered a job back at the University and a research program to get my PhD. I felt I was back in a reasonable state of mind; Cathy got married, and Janelle was in the wedding party, along with Lori, who had come back to Sydney for Cathy’s wedding, and Mary Beth’s wedding a week or so later. Cathy had asked me to play the organ at the church, and we were providing the music at the reception. Janelle and I hooked up at the wedding, and started getting pretty serious; about nine months later, we got engaged, and then she was killed in a car accident, driving back to work on the evening we announced our engagement.”“Oh no! That’s so terrible! I think I read about that, wasn’t it a drunk driver on the Wakehurst Parkway?”“Yes, at least that’s what the police reports said. But at least I now had a good relationship with several close friends, they help me hold things together and get through it all. Anyway, after that, I bought the house we had been renting in. The woman wondered how the man’s physical appearance might have changed over the past 10 months, asking herself if perhaps he was sporting a beard lately. Or, could he have lost the 20 pounds about which he had complained the previous year. Her mind savored the latter image to the extent that she dallied in the erotic landscape of a 45-second fantasy centered around his salient bulge in acid-washed denim. Only a bike messenger’s shrill whistle jolted her out of such a daydream, during which she missed two ‘Walk’ signals while standing on the street corner’s edge. She could kick herself for behaving like a schoolgirl, but she had not seen the man since November. After playing telephone tag and other games since then, she felt more than a pregnant pause in their unfinished dialogue about the forbidden passion that was causing an incendiary interlude in their platonic relationship. The Empire State Building on the island of Manhattan shined in the September sun like a gigantic compass.
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